April 5, 2007

Infinite Black Suitcase

I've been remiss in not mentioning this sooner, but Life, you know.

The world premiere of Infinite Black Suitcase starts tomorrow in Los Angeles. (If you happen to be in the neighborhood, by all means, go!) I've had the pleasure to read it, and it's fantastic: I laughed, I cried, I wanted more. (Isn't that what all good literature should do for us?) But I'm sure seeing it live with real people will be an even more gripping experience.

Apart from the fact that I know what's in it--and thus, know that, independently, it is worthy of recommendation--I am happy for the playwright, none other than my buddy Ellen (some may remember her as my matron of honor...we've been friends since 1985, and never a cross word. Well, there was that one incident with the Red Hots, but we stayed locker partners anyway [and it was my fault. I was completely obnoxious. There. I said it. ;-)]) I've always felt that saying you were proud of someone implied that you thought you had something to do with the accomplishment; and I don't think I did, so I can't say I'm proud of her. Can you be proud *for* someone? I dunno; but I know I'm excited. This is a big recognition of her years of servitude to that most demanding calling, writing. I'm just so glad that more people in the world will have the chance to see what I've known for years: she's *great*!

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